


Worse Things Happen at Sea - The Orlesian Adventures

by Hot_elf



Series: Dragon Age - series 2 (Felis Surana / Kit Hawke / Niamh Lavellan) [7]
Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, Threesome - F/F/M, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-01
Updated: 2012-12-11
Packaged: 2017-11-17 13:12:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/551932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hot_elf/pseuds/Hot_elf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kit Hawke and Isabela have left Kirkwall behind them and set sail for Orlais. Lots of adventures await them in the grand city of Val Royeaux.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue - A Pirate's Life

 

**Prologue - A Pirate's Life**

Kit Hawke took to pirating like a fish to water. Within two months after they had left Kirkwall, he had traded his bulky armour for a pair of leather pants, a shirt and a vest and had got the hang of using a cutlass, even though he still preferred his trusted daggers. Soon he gained the crew's respect, sparring with the best of them. Isabela devoted part of each day to teaching him all he needed to know about sailing. Kit loved the gentle sway of the ship under his feet, he thrived in the salty sea air and the rough breezes. But the real test of his mettle came when they sighted a Nevarran merchantman off the coast near Ostwick.

The _Wicked Grace_ was a lot faster than the stodgy merchantman. Within moments they were closing in and preparing to board. When the two ships collided, Kit and Fenris threw themselves into the fray with abandonment. Isabela laughed with delight when she saw the two of them fight side by side, a look of savage enjoyment on their faces. Their other companions kept to the back, with Anders and Bethany restricting themselves to some much-needed healing spells. Isabela had put her foot down firmly on any further involvement of the mages, unwilling to risk her ship to a stray fireball. Aveline and Donnic had refused to take part in a pirate attack, and Varric elected to stay below decks with Merrill. Neither of them enjoyed being at sea very much.

When the merchantman's captain signalled his surrender, Isabela quickly gave the order to bind and guard the prisoners, and then went down to the cargo hold with Kit at her side to inspect their booty. They had made a good catch. Bales of fine cloth, a few crates of weapons, even some carefully stowed chests filled with potions and poultices. But Isabela's eyes lit up when they came to the last compartment of the hold and found five large barrels stacked against the wall.

"Rum!" she exclaimed with a delighted grin. "And not just any old rum," she added when she examined the stamps on the barrels. "The real thing, from Seheron." Kit eyed her questioningly, and she elaborated. "Every pirate's favourite poison, Kit. Made from sugar cane. You'll love it."

A loud cheer went up from the crew when Isabela announced what they had found. Later that night, when they had left the floundering wreck of the merchantman behind, a delegation of pirates appeared on the bridge and asked to speak with the captain. Kit listened, torn between amusement and irritation, when they demanded their share of the rum. Not at the next port, but right now, as soon as they reached a good place to drop anchor and go ashore for a night of drinking and debauchery. To his surprise, Isabela agreed without as much as a shrug.

Kit grumbled, but she just grinned. "Pirates, Kit. They only care about a small number of very specific things: the sea, strong drink, and booty. Both kinds. If there's rum involved, better just let them get it out of their system."

It took them another day to find a suitable anchoring place near one of the small islands surrounding Brandel's Reach. The crew happily set off toward the beach with the rum barrels. Isabela insisted on staying on board, though.

"Oh no!" she smirked when Kit suggested they join the party. "They _are_ pirates. I prefer not to leave my ship unprotected on a night like this." When she saw his disappointment, she laughed merrily. "Don't worry, Kit. I kept one of the barrels here. We'll make our own fun here on deck."

It was a balmy night, and the rum flowed freely. They could hear the pirates' raucous laughter from the shore, snatches of song drifting over the water now and then. _We pillage and plunder, we rifle and loot._ _Drink up me 'earties..._ Kit grinned from ear to ear at the words. _We're rascals and scoundrels... we're devils and black sheep._.. _a pirate's life for me.._.

Isabela rolled her eyes. "Really, that lot seems intent on proving Varric‘s pirate stories true," she muttered. "Next thing you know they'll start carrying parrots on their shoulders and wearing eye patches."

But it was obvious she was enjoying herself as well. They set up a makeshift table in the middle of the lower deck and shared out the rum and some other delicacies they'd found on board the merchantman. Even Aveline forgot her stiff-lipped disapproval when Isabela handed her a glass, and she took a tentative sip.

"Maker's breath, Isabela, this stuff is really good!" The former guard captain's voice was genuinely surprised. Donnic laughed and pulled her closer.

Varric began to tell stories, and everyone relaxed. Even Anders smiled a little, and he and Bethany cast little spells for the group's entertainment, producing pretty flowers and dancing wisps that made Merrill squeak with delight. Fenris forgot his habitual scowl at the use of magic, and Kit didn't find it in his heart any more to sulk at his sister and the mage. He had been livid when he found out they were sharing a bed. But now, when he heard Bethany's happy giggle and saw the way Anders was looking at her, he relented and smiled at them both.

As the evening went on, Varric's tales became raunchier, with Isabela eagerly adding some of her own. Anders and Bethany cuddled up ever closer until they finally slipped off into the night, much to Kit's relief. He wasn't up to watching them make out, not yet. Probably never. But he couldn't suppress an affectionate grin when he realized that Orana had joined the party and was just now snuggling closer to Fenris. Despite their shared background, the shy housekeeper had always been wary of Fenris, afraid of the power of his markings. But now, under the influence of rum and the general air of light-heartedness, she was making puppy eyes at him, and he seemed to enjoy it... 

 

* * *

"Such a beautiful night." Orana had moved up quietly next to him, and Fenris' head snapped up in surprise. He didn't even notice at first that she was speaking to him in Arcanum, until he found himself answering in the same language.

"It is," he agreed and raised his tankard to her. "Here's to Hawke who brought us all here."

Orana nodded and sat down close to him, following his line of sight to where Kit was sitting on an upturned chest, sipping his drink and watching them all with a kind of detached amusement. "He's a good man," she said quietly. "In his house, I learned to be truly free."

When Fenris raised a questioning eyebrow at her, she went on. "You know, I went to his bed the first night I stayed at his house. It seemed the right thing to do, with him being the master, and having saved me, and all."

Fenris held his breath. "And what happened?"

Orana laughed and looked away into the distance, over to the island where lights were dancing on the shore. "He sent me away. He said I was perfectly welcome to come back once he could be sure I really wanted to."

Fenris grinned. "That sounds like Hawke. And... did you go back?"

Orana shook her head. "No. I... I'm not really into human men... Too many bad memories."

He nodded. "I think I understand." To his surprise, he found himself strongly attracted to the shy young woman tonight. She was no beauty, with her slightly angular features, but she had pretty eyes and a sweet smile, and it had been a long time since he'd been with an Elven woman. And this one spoke his language and understood more about his past than anyone else on this ship.... "Well, I'm not human, _mellita_...." he murmured and trailed a finger through her long, silver-blond hair, brushing slightly against her ears.

Orana swallowed briefly. "Could we... go somewhere else?"

Fenris nodded and got to his feet, pulling her up with him. "Come." 

 

* * *

Kit smiled again as the two disappeared into the darkness, but seconds later he cried out in surprise when Merrill dropped unceremoniously into his lap.

"Can I sit with you, Hawke? Please?" Her luminous green eyes were pleading, and Kit sighed deeply. He had been aware of Merrill's crush on him for some time. And there was no denying that she was sweet and pretty. Just not... what he wanted or needed.

"Merrill-" he started to say, but was interrupted by a low whistle from Varric.

"What's that, Daisy? What do you want with Hawke? What has he got that I haven't?" The dwarf's tone was light, but Kit noticed a clear warning in his eyes. He knew Varric felt fiercely protective toward the little elven mage.

"Well, isn't that obvious?" Merrill's tone was adoring, even as her slurred speech betrayed the fact that she, too, had had a little more rum than she should have. "He's clever, strong, and wonderful. How can anyone not love him?"

Kit nearly choked on his drink and had to cling to Merrill's slight figure to catch his breath, a development she seemed not unhappy with. "Merrill, I-"

But she wouldn't let him finish. "Besides, Isabela is busy tonight. Look."

Kit followed her gaze and hissed sharply. There was no way of telling how Isabela had managed to persuade Aveline, but the two women were wrapped in a passionate embrace, the pirate's nimble fingers playing with Aveline's firm, high breasts as they were kissing deeply and sensually. Donnic was watching them raptly, his eyes fixed on the pirate's tanned hand that made a sharp contrast to Aveline's pale, milky-white skin. Varric looked over as well and said something under his breath that made even Kit blush briefly.

"What was that, Varric?" Merrill's chirrupy voice rang out. "Was it something dirty? You know..." she wiggled closer to Kit and looked up at him. "I miss a lot of dirty things and sometimes I wouldn't mind hearing them."

Kit gasped. The combination of her wiggling and the sight of Isabela and Aveline hadn't failed to make an impact on him.

Merrill's eyes grew even bigger as she felt his reaction. "Oh!" Her lips formed a perfect circle of surprise. "Did I do that?"

Kit cursed silently, then decided this had to stop. Now. His head was less than clear, and he really didn't want to end up doing something they both would regret in the morning. With a firm, determined grip, he lifted Merrill off his lap and handed her over to Varric.

"Take her away, Varric. Please. I..." His voice was strained.

The dwarf grinned broadly, leading a protesting Merrill away to the hatch. "Come on, Daisy. Bedtime for little mages."

Kit sighed and briefly considered calling it a night as well, but just then Donnic took hold of Isabela's wrist and pulled her hand away from Aveline's body. "I think I'll take it from here, Isabela."

The raspy tone of his voice left no doubt as to his intentions as he took his wife's hands and dragged her off to their cabin. Isabela leaned back with a frustrated curse, but then she caught Kit's gaze and they both started to laugh.

"It seems all our happy couples prefer a little more privacy," he chuckled, walking over to her and offering her his hand to help her up.

Isabela smirked but took his hand and gracefully slid up into his arms, meeting his lips for a long kiss, before dragging him over to the railing. "Look, Kit. Isn't this the most beautiful thing in the world?"

He was standing close behind her, and they were looking out over the moonlit sea, silvery waves rippling in the light breeze, the sky a clear midnight blue. They could still hear the faint echoes of the crew's carousing drifting over from the island, the creaking of the ship's planks under their feet, the rustling of the sails.

Kit leaned in to brush his lips against her neck, inhaling her scent and letting his fingers trail down her arms. "No," he breathed against her ear. "You are."

His hands moved to her breasts, half exposed by her earlier smooching with Aveline, and began to knead the soft flesh until she was arching back against him with a small gasp. Kit's hot lips found their way down her spine, nibbling, kissing, igniting her skin. His fingers moved under her tunic, sliding off her smalls, carefully probing her readiness.

She heard him laugh quietly. "You rather enjoyed playing around with Aveline, didn't you?"

Isabela moaned and pressed herself firmly back against his hard body, grinding her hips against him. "Shut up, Kit," she growled. "Not as much as you enjoyed watching, at least by the feel of it. You're not exactly in a position to talk."

His smug grin was almost audible as he quickly unlaced his leather pants. "I like this position just fine, Bells."

He bent her a little over the railing and then she felt him at her back, teasing her briefly with his hardness before he slid into her, slowly and carefully. She drew a deep breath as he settled deep inside her heat, pulling her close, his hands back on her breasts in a skilful caress that went straight down to her core. When he began to move, there was no rush, no urgency, just a slow rocking that perfectly fit her mood. She closed her eyes, revelling in the feel of his hands on her skin, the scent of rum and sex and _Kit_ surrounding her.

"I knew you'd make a perfect pirate," she purred happily, making him chuckle even as his rhythm picked up speed.

"I learned from the best, honey." His breathing became ragged and his movements were getting more erratic.

Suddenly impatient, she grabbed his right hand and moved it down from her breast to her crotch, pressing herself hard against his palm and nearly crying out in pleasure at the increased stimulation. He took the cue, his fingers quickly finding the perfect spot and caressing her until she bucked up hard and came with a violent, urgent shudder. With a triumphant laugh, he bent her down a little further and pounded harder into her, no longer holding back, until he too collapsed breathlessly, spent and satisfied.

 

 

 

 

* * *

Anders' hangover potions were in great demand the next morning. Kit was lying stretched out on a coil of ropes in the sun, trying to catch up on some sleep, when Aveline, Varric and Merrill approached him.

"We need to talk, Hawke." The dwarf's face was uncharacteristically serious.

Kit sat up, flinching at the bright sunlight. "What is it?"

"Look, Hawke, it's obvious you enjoy this life to the full, but we... are not pirates." Aveline hardly looked into his eyes, and he realized she was more than a little embarrassed about what had happened last night. "We've come to tell you that we're going to ask Isabela to take us to Highever. Donnic and I will try and join Anora's service. She's my queen, after all."

"And I'll see if I can establish some kind of trading post there. I've got some contacts in Ferelden." Varric seemed confident. "Bodahn and Sandal will come with me and help me set it all up. And Orana would like to keep house for me. She's not happy at sea."

Kit nodded. This wasn't wholly unexpected. "What about you, Merrill?"

To his surprise, the elf seemed unconcerned about last night's events. Her eyes were shining with excitement. "I'll go exploring, Hawke. Maybe I'll even travel to the Dales. Besides, I've missed Ferelden. Blackberries, you know. They don't seem to grow in the Free Marches. And there are little song birds with black caps on their heads."

"So, that's it then." Kit sighed a little. "Well, at least Fen will stay with us."

"And so will we." Anders and Bethany had stepped up, and the mage looked at Kit intently. "If you'll have us, I'd rather stay with you, Hawke, than try my luck at Vigil's Keep. The new Warden Commander doesn't know me and has no reason to help me. She's just as likely to have me executed for what happened in Kirkwall."

"Of course you'll stay with us." Kit smiled warmly at his sister, then turned to the others. "All right. Let's talk to Isabela."

 

* * *

When all goodbyes were said and the _Wicked Grace_ had left Highever behind, Kit looked around. He would miss them all, he realized, but he was excited about the future, as well. Their next stop would be Val Royeaux, Isabela had said. He'd never been to Orlais. _A pirate's life. Devils and black sheep. Pillage and plunder._ Kit grinned widely as he climbed up the rigging for a last look back at Ferelden. _Sounds perfect._

 

* * *

_This prologue is set between Chapter 1 and 2 of "Redemption". Check out that story if you want to read more about Anders and Bethany._


	2. The Blue Peacock

**Chapter 1 - The Blue Peacock**

Not even Kit Hawke could come up with a sarcastic comment when he first set sight on the great city of Val Royeaux, capital of the Orlesian Empire.  It was overwhelming:  grand, opulent, and rich. Wide boulevards paved in white stone, beautiful multi-storied townhouses with intricate wrought-iron balconies, luscious parks and well-manicured gardens. The imposing grandeur of the Grand Cathedral with its colourful stained glass windows and its sweeping high granite arches. And of course the White Spire, famous all over Thedas, its pearly-white silhouette rising high above the city.

Kit stole a glance at Anders' face. The mage was standing next to him at the _Wicked Grace_ 's railing and looking up at the tall, shimmering mage tower with a strange expression, made up of equal parts curiosity and revulsion. Kit sighed. They would have to be careful. It wasn't likely that they would be recognized by anyone here; his fame as the Champion of Kirkwall wouldn't reach that far. Still, Anders and Bethany would be well advised to dress inconspicuously, and spell-casting in public was out of the question. The authorities of the Orlesian Empire didn't take kindly to apostate mages on the run.

When they disembarked, the two mages were dressed in simple, everyday clothes, while Kit had opted for his trusted leather armour. Fenris was hiding his striking tattoos under a hooded cloak.

"Come on, everyone, don't worry." Isabela sounded perfectly carefree. "I'll take you to a good friend of mine. We can stay at her place. She's discreet and no one will know who we are."

They made their way across the docks, accompanied by the raucous cries of the town greeters trying to lure them into shops or inns, then past the alienage. Bethany wrinkled her nose at the smell emanating from the crowded Elven quarter. This part of the city was in no better shape than it had been in Kirkwall. But Isabela led them on, through the maze of cobbled streets of the old town and the crowds milling around the _belle marché_ , into the more prosperous parts of the city, past highly ornamented facades and the storefronts of luxury merchants. Finally she stopped at a large whitewashed building in the Antivan style, with columns and galleries arranged around a large, sunny courtyard. A sign above the door showed a prancing blue peacock.

" _Le Paon Bleu_ ," Isabela said proudly. "One of the finest houses in Val Royeaux. "Come in."

The door opened immediately when Isabela knocked in a complicated pattern, and a servant in livery took them to a small room with red velvet tapestries and magnificently upholstered furniture. Fans made from peacock feathers adorned the walls.

Bethany took a look at the paintings and statues displayed around them and blushed violently. "Isabela! This is a..."

"A whorehouse, yes." The pirate was unfazed. "Or rather one of the most exclusive brothels in Orlais. Run by my good friend Roxane. I think you'll like her. And I'm sure she'll make us feel _very_ welcome."

Kit couldn't quite suppress a grin at his sister's obvious discomfort, especially when he noticed the unabashed curiosity with which Anders inspected their surroundings. Fenris too seemed rather relaxed. Bethany opened her mouth to say more, but at this moment, the door opened and a richly dressed woman entered the room. She had large brown eyes and long chestnut-coloured hair, arranged in artful curls around her perfectly made-up face. Her skin was white like porcelain and only a very close inspection showed the faint lines around her eyes. Her stunning figure was displayed to best advantage by her low-cut maroon robe.

"Isabela!" she exclaimed with genuine warmth, embracing the pirate like a long-lost sister. "I haven't seen you in ages. Have you finally left that abysmal place behind you?" Her voice was heavily accented, but she spoke Fereldan well.

"Roxane!" Isabela hugged her back with the same enthusiasm. "Yes, no more Kirkwall for me. But I want you to meet my friends. Kit, Anders, Bethany. And Fenris."

Roxane gave a low unladylike whistle when Fenris threw back his hood. "Maker's Breath! You could make a fortune here, my dear! Those eyes! And..." Isabela quickly shushed her friend, but to her surprise the elf just smiled, even if he seemed a little embarrassed.

Then Kit stepped to the front and executed a perfect, graceful bow, taking Roxane's hand and bringing it up to his lips. " _Je suis enchanté de faire votre connaissance, Madame_!" He lightly brushed a kiss upon the back of her hand. " _Je ne m'attendais pas à voir une femme aussi ravissante que vous._ "

His accent was flawless, and the heated look he threw their hostess didn't fail to make an impression either. She was positively purring when she answered him in a rapid string of Orlesian words, and Kit's smile became even more seductive as he exchanged a few more compliments with her.

Roxane turned back to Isabela. " _Ma chère_ , this is very charming company indeed. You must all stay here. I insist. I have plenty of lovely rooms. No one will disturb you in my house."

She was as good as her word. Kit chatted with her while she showed them around the house, and soon they were all pleasurably settled in a very nice suite of three rooms, each with a large double bed. Isabela dropped to the bed and started taking off her boots, sighing with relief as they came off.

"I didn't know you spoke Orlesian so well, Kit. I thought you'd never been here before?" She looked up at her lover, hardly able to hide her curiosity.

Kit grinned and leaned against the doorframe, watching her affectionately. "My mother, remember? She grew up with an Orlesian governess, because her family was grooming her for her marriage to the Comte de Launcet. She made sure I learnt the language as a child. Bethany and Carver too. We hated it, but she made us practise until we sounded perfect. She said it might come in handy one day."

"Well, it sure did today," Isabela purred. "You made quite the impression on Roxane. What were the two of you talking about, anyway?"

Kit's grin got broader. "Well, she explained some of the house's 'special services' to me and asked me if we would like a room with... extras. So I said yes."

Isabela raised a questioning eyebrow, and Kit walked over to their four-poster bed and pulled a golden string attached to the curtains. The drapes moved to the side with a soft, swishing noise and revealed a large mirror, set into the canopy above them.

"Oh my!" The pirate couldn't quite suppress a giggle. "This is so very... Orlesian." She rolled onto her stomach, stretching like a cat and throwing him a suggestive look from under her long, thick lashes. "Do we still have time to... try it out?"

"You bet we do." Kit was already throwing off his armour, his hands making short work of the complicated buckles. He stripped down to his linen pants, then he was at her side, impatiently tugging at the laces of her corset. "Get this off!"

Isabela laughed and pushed his hands away, shoving him until he lay on his back and straddling him. "Patience, Kit, patience!"

Slowly and sensuously she began to take off her clothes, giving him plenty of time to enjoy the double spectacle of herself and her mirror image above them. Kit's eyes were wandering up and down, now over her half-exposed body, now up to the ceiling, and she could clearly feel how much he was enjoying the view. When she had thrown off the last scrap of clothing, she slid down along his body, pulling down his pants in a swift motion.

Kit gasped, and she followed his gaze upwards. It was an enticing sight, his long lean body stretched out naked on the silky sheets, her own curvaceous form kneeling between his legs, her dark skin in marked contrast to his lighter colour. She bent down again and let her lips wander up the insides of his thighs, teasing him with the softest of touches until he grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her up to his crotch.

"Bells..." The need in his voice made her shiver as she softly took him between her lips and started to lick him gently, her tongue fluttering against him like the wings of a butterfly, until he arched up into her mouth, muttering incoherently. She let go of him for a second, only to dip her head down, taking him in as deeply as she could, and then worked her way up his shaft, gently sucking, never breaking the contact. Over and over she repeated the procedure, taking him a little higher every time, until he pulled her up into his arms with a growl.

"You need to stop this... now!" he hissed.

He quickly turned her over so that she was lying on her back, sprawled on top of him, with a clear view of herself in the mirror. She watched his hands travel over her body, gently squeeze her full breasts, then move deeper to spread her legs. Isabela gave a little helpless whimper as his hands played at her core, his movements so exact and precise... Maker, but he knew her body better than she did herself! She was melting under his caresses, opening up to his touch, until she was all but begging for him.

Kit turned a little to the side, lifted up one of her legs over his hip and pushed his own upper leg between hers, effortlessly gliding inside her. She moaned loudly at the feel of him inside her, at the sight of their entwined bodies. The position didn't give him much room to move, but the pressure of his leg on her mound more than made up for this. His gaze was firmly fixed on her face now, and his hips were rolling softly against her, creating the most delicious friction.

"Kit... oh Maker, this feels so good!" Isabela hardly recognized her own voice.

She grabbed his thigh, pressing it hard into her crotch, rubbing herself against him shamelessly like a cat in heat. He let her set the pace and she quickly urged him to go faster, to thrust harder until she finally gave a high-pitched cry and her whole body went rigid with pleasure in his arms. She was still shaking from the intensity of her climax when he grabbed her hips hard and finished with a hoarse groan, deep inside her.

They both lay still for a while, their bodies still joined, warm and heavy and relaxed. Isabela stole occasional glances upwards and marvelled at how beautiful they looked together, how well their bodies complemented each other. Kit's face was utterly peaceful now, his eyes half-closed, his lips curved upward in a faint smile.

They didn't get up before Anders knocked at the door, reminding them that it was almost time for dinner.

"And now for the famous Orlesian _cuisine_! I believe I could get used to this." Kit's voice had turned to a contented rumble as he finished tying Isabela's corset strings and placed a soft kiss on the nape of her neck.

"Just wait until you see what else this place has in store," the pirate laughed. "The _Paon_ is famous for its... entertainment. Come on, the others will be waiting."


	3. Dancers and Duels

**Chapter 2: Dancers and Duels**

When Kit Hawke and his companions came down for dinner, one of Roxane's girls led them to a small private room where a table was set for all five of them. Kit, Isabela and Anders shared a platter of fresh sea food, revelling in the briny taste of oysters and mussels and the sweet plumpness of lobsters and scallops. Fenris and Bethany politely refused, neither of them having a taste for shellfish. They opted for a delicate chicken casserole instead, and the elf happily sampled the rich selection of wines and cheeses. After the meal Bethany and Anders retired to their room, as did Fenris.

Kit asked the elf to stay for the evening's entertainment, but he shook his head. "I'm too conspicuous, Kit. Some of the people out there might begin to ask questions. I am sure you will enjoy your evening without me."

Isabela smiled at Kit when Fenris had left the room. "He won't lack for company, if he's so inclined. I think most of the girls would be only too happy to join him in his room."

At Roxane's invitation, Kit and Isabela moved to the main salon and settled at a cozy little table in front of the small stage. A serving girl brought them a bottle of wine and some nuts. Around them, a fair number of patrons had settled down at similar tables. An expectant hush fell over the room, and Kit raised a questioning eyebrow at Isabela. Before she could say anything, busy hands extinguished all the lights in the room except for the stage, and a bard seated to the side of the curtain had begun to play soft sensuous music on his lyre.

Then the curtain opened and eight girls appeared on the stage. They were all tall, immaculately made-up and coiffed and uncommonly beautiful. And every single one of them was practically naked. They were wearing nothing but a few leather straps and strategically placed bits of black lace. And very high-heeled shoes, decorated with small glittering gemstones. Kit watched with interest as they went through various dance routines, their bare bodies writhing and twisting in time to the music. It was a thoroughly professional performance. The girls' moves were well-rehearsed and their faces devoid of emotion. The audience was well-behaved. No stumbling or faltering, no cries or wolf-whistles - everything was as smooth and perfect as it could be. When the girls retired behind the stage to a generous round of applause, Isabela threw Kit a curious look.

"Well, what do you think?" He realized she had been watching his face for most of the performance, more interested in his reaction than in the goings-on up there.

He shrugged. "They are beautiful. Really good dancers. A bit boring, though." When she looked at him in surprise, he elaborated. "They were too cool, too slick, Bells. There was no mystery there, no challenge, no seduction. Watching you take off your boots is a thousand times more exciting than this."

She smiled at him, touched by his words. "Well, I liked their shoes!"

Kit laughed. "That figures. Now, Roxane, on the other hand..." His gaze wandered to their hostess who had changed into an even more daring dress for the night and was just now making her way over to their table.

"Well, Kit, how did you like my girls?" She was beaming with pride.

"They are lovely, Roxane." Kit gave her his most charming smile. " _Mais pas si jolies que vous_."

She lightly tapped his hand with her fan and was about to reply when there was a commotion at one of the adjoining tables. A young nobleman wearing an elaborate mask was trying to pull a beautiful young girl with curly blonde hair onto his lap, despite her protestations.

" _Merde_! Not him again!" Roxane was scowling.

"Do you know him? Has he been bothering your girls before?" Kit studied the young man coolly. A familiar type. Rich, spoilt and not in the habit of being denied any of his wishes.

Their hostess nodded. "The youngest son of the Baron de Banal. He's been following Suzanne around for weeks now. He's violent and aggressive and he won't take no for an answer. She's afraid of him. I would have him thrown out, but such a scene is bad for business."

"May I?" Kit asked, and when she nodded, he got up and made his way over to the other table.

"I believe the lady isn't interested in your attentions, messere," he pointed out in flawless Orlesian.

It took a moment for his words to register, but then the young man glared up at Kit who was taller and more broad-shouldered than him. "This is none of your business, s _ale chien Fereldain_!"

"Oh, but I believe it is." Kit remained perfectly calm as he pointed toward the door. "You'd better leave. You are spoiling everyone's fun."

The young man was fuming now. "How dare you! You will answer to me for this." He got up and threw one of his gloves to the floor at Kit's feet. "I'll see you tomorrow, at sunrise, outside the city walls." With a last disdainful look back, he left the room with his friends.

Isabela groaned. "Oh great! A duel! Kit is going to cut him to pieces."

"Good!" Roxane's voice was grim.

* * *

Early next morning Kit and Isabela arrived at the dueling grounds. The practice had become so common among the young noblemen of Val Royeaux that the city council had given in and set aside a suitable place for the fights. Despite the early hour, the young man was waiting for Kit, rapier at the ready. Kit watched him prance around and barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes while he was stifling a yawn.

"Why do these blasted duels have to be so early?" he muttered. "Anything wrong with noon or the early evening?"

"It's not as dramatic," Isabela pointed out dryly. "There's nothing like all-enshrouding morning mist to create a proper atmosphere."

Both men took up positions, Kit holding the rapier in his left hand. Not his weapon of choice, but it would do. And there was no need to let his opponent know that he could fight equally well with both hands. When the fight began, it took Kit only a few moments to realize that this wouldn't be much of a challenge. Still, a small number of curious onlookers had assembled, and he didn't intend to make things look too easy. The last thing he wanted was for his fighting skills to become the talk of the town. He spent a few rounds dancing around his opponent, threatening and parrying, feinting in as dramatic and exaggerated a fashion as possible. When the young pup inevitably overreached himself, it was easy enough to disarm him, sending his rapier flying across the meadow to a round of applause from their audience.

Kit could have killed his opponent without breaking a sweat, but he contented himself with a vicious slash across his cheek that was sure to leave a nasty scar. Before he left the meadow, he bowed down to the young man and, in a few well chosen words, detailed what would happen to him if their paths ever crossed again. The boy paled and nodded briefly, his face a mask of impotent fury.

"You'll have to watch your back from now on," Isabela muttered as they departed. "I wouldn't be surprised if he arranges for a secret attack down at the docks."

* * *

Roxane awaited them eagerly in her little parlour. She squealed with delight when Isabela described the encounter, and it was obvious her opinion of Kit had just gone up even further.

"Thank the Maker you were here! How can I possibly repay you, Kit? Normally I'd offer you the pick of my girls, but..." She looked from Kit to Isabela, unsure of how to proceed.

"Well, if you feel the need to express your gratitude, it's not your girls I'm interested in." The way Kit's eyes were raking over her body made his intentions more than clear.

"Oh!" Roxane seemed pleasantly surprised, but she threw a wary look at Isabela "But I thought you two..."

"True, but..." Isabela winked at her friend. "I might be persuaded to share, if you'd consider such an arrangement."

Roxane didn't bother to hide the happy anticipation on her face. "I'm busy now, but let's say... tonight, after dinner?"

A wicked smile spread across Kit's face and he nodded. "Tonight."

* * *

Roxane's bedroom was pleasant and well-appointed, but not overly plush. It was obvious that she didn't normally use it to entertain guests any more; the furniture was designed more for comfort than for show. Still, the bed was large and the sheets silky, the light was soft and inviting, and the air was scented with sandalwood and a hint of musk.

Kit and Isabela had spent most of the afternoon in the _Paon_ 's luxurious bathing chambers, soaking in hot water, enjoying a soothing massage at the skilful hands of the Antivan bath attendant and lounging in the comfortable divans. Pleasures of this kind could not be found in Kirkwall, nor in Ferelden, and Kit had taken to them like a duck to water.

He stretched out comfortably on Roxane's bed, enjoying the softness of the cool, clean linen of his shirt on his naked skin. He couldn't remember ever feeling so thoroughly clean and relaxed before. And watching Isabela in the bath had been an additional boon, providing a subtle but steady build-up of arousal over the long afternoon. When he closed his eyes, he could still see her in his mind's eye, naked and luscious, soapy water streaming over her ample breasts, oil glistening on her firm thighs, her eyes closed in bliss. Kit sighed contentedly.

"Well, Kit, it's your party." Isabela's voice tore him out of his reverie. "What do you want us to do?"

"You could start by getting rid of those clothes." He pushed himself up on his elbows to watch the two gorgeous women before him.

Roxane was wearing one of her customary low-cut dresses, this one a rich dark red that almost matched her hair. Isabela was clad in a simple white tunic and a wide black skirt she had borrowed from Roxane, having been unwilling to put her boots and corset back on without having them properly cleaned first. Kit had never seen her in such feminine clothing, and the skirt seemed a bit out of place on her, even though it looked flattering on her generous curves. The two women smiled at each other as they began to remove each other's clothing, their slow, sensuous movements keeping Kit at rapt attention.

It soon became obvious that the skirt was not the only thing Isabela had borrowed. Kit's breath caught briefly at the sight in front of him. Roxane and Isabela were wearing matching sets of lacy underwear, the pirate's white and her friend's black, setting off their contrasting skin tones to perfection.

"Let down your hair." His voice had become husky, and he shivered with pleasure as they complied.

Silky black strands mingled with dark red curls as Isabela reached out to draw the other woman into a long, tender kiss. Kit moved back on the bed a little to make room for them and beckoned for them to join him, taking a few moments to divest himself of his own clothes.

Isabela smiled to herself. She knew that watching her with another woman was one of Kit's favourite fantasies, and she enjoyed making it come true for him. Roxane was so beautiful and skilled that this was hardly a sacrifice. Still, if she was completely honest, it was Kit she wanted to please tonight, Kit, whose happiness had begun to mean so much to her. She spared a brief glance at his rapt face as she pulled her friend closer and let her hands travel over that voluptuous body, pushing aside the lace to stroke her silky skin and enjoying the small sounds of pleasure her touch elicited.

Roxane reached out for Kit, but he shook his head, content for the moment to just watch the two of them. Isabela's eyes were half-closed as her friend's full lips closed around a dusky nipple, tugging and sucking until her back arched in pleasure. Her own hands found damp, dark-red curls, teasing and caressing, until Roxane too was moaning happily.

"Enough!" Kit could hardly trust his voice any more.

Isabela pulled the other woman up into a last heated kiss before they let go of each other to take care of Kit's needs. They arranged themselves on the bed, one to each side of him so that he could easily touch them. Roxane smiled at Isabela and let her hand slide up between his legs, cupping his balls. Her lips brushed against his shaft for a moment, then her tongue took over and slid all the way up. He had hardly time to groan before Isabela's mouth joined her friend's, their faces so close that their cheeks brushed against each other and their hair got tangled.

Kit was sure this was what paradise felt like. Looking down on their heads, he knew that he wouldn't last at this pace, yet he didn't want them to stop, ever, wanted to enjoy the marvellous sensation of their combined lips and tongues just a little longer...

It took an immense effort to end it. "Roxane!" He pushed them both aside and pulled the redhead up, whispering something into her ear.

Roxane smiled knowingly and pushed Isabela on her back, spreading her legs and arranging her carefully on the bed before kneeling down between her strong tanned thighs. Kit was already close behind her, and when she bowed down to taste Isabela, he took hold of her hips and buried himself deep inside her with a hoarse groan. For a second she faltered, but he kept perfectly still until she had resumed her ministrations and the pirate was mewling with delight. Then he began to move, slowly and carefully so as not to disturb her, and she moaned appreciatively, savouring every stroke.

Isabela kept her eyes wide open and drank in the exciting sight of Kit and Roxane's joined bodies. He watched her with the same feverish intensity, enjoying the way her face mirrored her arousal. She was the first to come, with a long, broken cry. Kit pulled back, took hold of Roxane and turned her around so that she came to lie on her back between Isabela's long legs, cradled in the other woman's arms. He took a moment to appreciate the beauty of the arrangement, Roxane's pearly white skin, her damp red curls, the utter abandonment with which she awaited him. When he slid inside her again, he kissed her, long and hard, then reached over her shoulder to kiss Isabela.

He resumed his movements, but he was beginning to struggle, his breath coming in hard gasps. Isabela knew he was close. Her fingers quickly made their way down Roxane's stomach until she found what she was looking for. It took only a few seconds for the other woman to respond to the increased stimulation; then she bucked up hard and Kit lost it completely. Within seconds he too found his release, his face buried in Roxane's neck, his hand pulling Isabela close to include her in their embrace. They rode it out together, their bodies shuddering and trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure.

When Kit finally pulled back, he felt a surge of gratitude toward Isabela. He still couldn't believe his luck in finding her. She was just as hungry for pleasure as he was, just as ready to throw all rules and regulations overboard in the pursuit of a single perfect moment of bliss. He kissed her passionately, holding her close for a long moment before he lay back with a long, happy sigh. Two lovely women in his arms, and the night had just begun! He couldn't think of any place he'd rather be.


	4. The Bard's Tale

**Chapter 3 - The Bard's Tale**

Kit heard the clatter of Anders' staff echoing in the quiet of the early morning as soon as he entered the _Paon's_ small backyard. The mage was lashing violently at a practice dummy, putting all his energy into the attack, visibly chafing at the fact that he wasn't allowed to use magic. Bethany was watching him, seated on a bench in the shade, her expression just as restless. _Of course. They haven't left the house in over a week_. Kit sighed. Being a mage was never easy, be it in Kirkwall or Orlais.

"Morning, Beth. Anders." He drew his blades, hiding his sympathy behind a sarcastic smirk. "That dummy must be dead several times over, you know. Why don't you attack someone your size for a change?"

Kit was glad to see a familiar grin appear on his friend's features. They sparred for about half an hour, even though without his magic Anders didn't really stand a chance against the rogue. Still, when they paused for breath, the mage was looking a good deal more relaxed.

When Isabela walked in on them, she took in the situation at a glance. "You two need to get out more. Why don't we go for a walk in the park after breakfast?"

"Oh yes, could we?" Bethany's face lit up. "I'm sure no one will notice us."

Kit nodded. "Good idea."

The small park was only a few paces from the _Paon's_ doorstep. It was well cared for, the grass kept neatly short, the bushes trimmed into fanciful shapes, beautiful statues strewn all over the lawns. They paused to admire a particularly attractive depiction of Andraste kneeling before Maferath, begging him for mercy. The sculptor had given the prophetess long flowing locks and a lithe yet curvy body, barely hidden by a thin linen shift.

She looked positively tempting, and Kit whistled under his breath. "If she really looked like that, Maferath was even more of an idiot than I thought."

There were more statues, Orlesian Empresses in sumptuous robes with diadems on their heads, grave scholars with pensive expressions and a half-naked young couple entwined in such a passionate embrace the heat between them was almost tangible.

They were turning to leave when the copper effigy of a young man in plain clothes caught their eye. He was lying stretched out on his back, a single red rose placed between his legs. A sign was attached to the pedestal.

" _Guillaume Blanc, héros du peuple,"_ Bethany read aloud. "A hero of the people. Has anyone ever heard of him?"

Anders shrugged, a grin spreading across his face. "I haven't. But obviously he died a happy man."

Bethany followed his gaze to the statue's crotch and blushed. Whoever had fashioned the memorial had made it abundantly clear that the young man had been well-endowed by nature, a detail made more obvious by the fact that the otherwise weathered statue was polished to a shine in the groin area.

Kit grinned and was about to remark on this when they heard a heavily accented voice behind them. "Aaaah, you have found our dear Guillaume. Step closer, ladies, touch him, you won't regret it."

A funny-looking little man with long, curly dark hair and deeply tanned skin was dashing up to them. The lute on his back proclaimed him a bard, as did the enthusiasm with which he launched into his story.

"You see, dear ladies and gents, this man was a hero! He was shot two hundred years ago by a nobleman, a nephew of the Emperor's, when he was defending the common people's rights. A crossbow bolt, right through the heart." The bard's expression became sly. "And he was also a _very_ lucky man. Look at this!" He pointed to the statue's massive erection "This effigy was done two days after his death. Two days!"

He grabbed Bethany's wrist and dragged her over to the statue, despite her protestations and the flaming blush that had descended over her cheeks. "Look, this is what you have to do. First..." He guided her hand to the statue's head. "You touch his face, because he's such a handsome guy, just look at him. Then you touch his heart, because he was shot through it by that noble bastard." The bard shook his head, visibly moved by the injustice. "And then..." Bethany had given up her struggle and let her hand be placed on the statue's crotch, her eyes rolling. "You touch him _here_ , because if he was like this two days after his death... Your man will never disappoint you in bed. And then you touch the feet, one for a baby, two for twins." The little man beamed at Bethany who was blushing again, her hands now placed on the statue's feet.

Kit grinned at her discomfort, but then he noticed the way her hand had moved instinctively to cover her stomach, saw the stunned expression on Anders' face, and he held his breath. "Wait a moment!" He threw a few coins at the bard who happily scampered off.

"Beth?" Kit's voice had suddenly become gentle, his expression curiously shy. "Is there something you should tell us?"

Bethany nodded, eliciting a high-pitched squeal from Isabela. Kit embraced his sister, lost for words for once, then extended his hand to Anders.

"Twins, actually." Anders' voice sounded shaky. "That bard-"

"Forget the bard!" Isabela was elated. "Let's go back to celebrate!"

* * *

Kit had some wine brought to the room he shared with Isabela, and they all settled down there. Fenris joined them shortly after. His reaction to the news was predictably reserved, but even he had to smile at the joyous expression on Kit's face. Bethany protested when her brother fussed over her, making her comfortable on the sofa, insisting she had something to eat and a glass of cool water.

"Really, Kit, I'm fine." She felt a surge of affection for him.

Only now did she realize how hard the family's tragedies had hit him too. Carver's early death, the horror of losing Leandra, the time when he had thought her gone forever in the Circle. She couldn't see him and Isabela settling down to have kids, but it was obvious how happy the idea of being an uncle made him.

They spent a few hours reminiscing about their childhood, trading stories of Kit's youthful escapades and Bethany's early attempts at magic. Fenris excused himself at one point, but Bethany and Isabela were giggling happily on the sofa, and Kit and Anders, seated next to each other opposite them, felt closer than they had in a long time. The wine made them relaxed and they forgot about their worries and differences, laughing and joking with each other just like in the old times.

When the conversation turned to the morning's encounter with the funny little bard, Kit smirked. "I don't know. In my opinion the sculptor exaggerated a tiny bit with that statue. That was hardly a realistic size."

Bethany blushed, and Anders raised an eyebrow. "Why so modest, Hawke? From what I've heard you have no reason to worry in that department."

Isabela threw Anders a suggestive look from under her long lashes. "Well, wouldn't you like to know...."

Anders grinned broadly, not embarrassed in the least. "I guess I would at that. Fortunately, there's an easy way to find out."

"What do you mean?" Kit sounded intrigued.

Anders reached over to Kit and let his hand lightly run along the other man's thigh. Tiny sparks jumped from his fingers and Kit gasped, grabbing the armrests of his chair.

None of them could stop their eyes from wandering to Kit's crotch, where a sizable bulge showed that he was easily in the same league as the deceased Guillaume.

"Anders!" Bethany jumped up, dragging the mage with her to the door. "Honestly! There are things I don't need to know about my brother."

Anders was still smirking when the door closed behind them. Isabela got up too, stretching voluptuously and walking over to Kit's chair. Sighing happily, she sat down on his lap, straddling him and letting her hand trail down over his stomach.

"Maker, Kit, this _is_ impressive!" she purred.

Kit swallowed and cupped her breasts. "A very... interesting trick," he agreed, his voice thick with arousal. "And to think that I always used to be glad I wasn't a mage. If I'd known about this... Maybe we should have asked Anders to do the same for you."

Isabela leaned happily into his touch. "Oh, I don't know, Kit. It seems to me that your hands and mouth have a magic of their own. Oh yes, don't stop!"

Eagerly he caressed her, tugging her tunic aside, stroking, nibbling, licking until she began to moan and to grind against him.

"Careful!" Kit held on to her hips, stopping her movement. "Bells, I need to be inside you. Now."

She laughed triumphantly, moving off his lap for the briefest of moments to throw off her clothes and unlace him, freeing him to her touch. Then she was back, lowering herself down on him, taking him all in with a deep, happy sigh. He closed his eyes, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps, his brow furrowed with concentration, willing himself to keep still. When she began to move, she could feel his fingers dig into the soft flesh of her bottom. The stifled moan he made was the most exciting thing she had ever heard.

"Kit!" She let her hips roll against him and his head flew back, his whole body taut with the effort of holding on. Isabela felt a surge of pride and couldn't resist repeating the motion.

"Damn it, Isabela!" His lips found her breasts, suckling at her nipples in a feverish frenzy. At the same time his hips began to jerk upwards almost involuntarily, creating his own rhythm in counterpoint to her slow, sinuous roll. He cursed when he realized he wouldn't be able to stop. Two, three more urgent thrusts, and then he tensed, his body taut as a bowstring, his eyes closed in concentration, until he gave in and spent himself inside her with a low growl.

She moaned with disappointment, but he immediately picked her up and carried her over to the bed, settling between her legs and letting his talented mouth make it up to her. And Maker, was he good at this! Only a few strokes of his tongue across her heat and she was bucking up, unable to keep from crying out his name. He didn't let her go, just held her hips down and kept licking and sucking, making her come over and over until she begged him hoarsely to let her go.

They lay exhausted on the bed for a while, dozing contentedly, her hand playing in his thick, curly hair. "Anders is a bad, bad man," she sighed contentedly.

"True." Kit smiled, moving up to kiss her. "You think Beth is still mad at him?"

"With talents like this he should be able to make her see his point of view." Isabela opened her eyes wide, suddenly curious. "Do you think all mages can do this, Kit? Or is it just Anders?"

He grinned. "Well, I wouldn't put it past him to be the first to come up with that particular trick. But using magic in bed... I'm pretty sure they all do it. Wouldn't you if you could?"

"Probably." She yawned and curled up against him for a nap, revelling in the warmth of his body. It wouldn't do to inflate his ego, so she didn't say it aloud. But she wouldn't have traded him for any mage in Thedas.

 


	5. Flowers and Chocolates

**Chapter 4 - Flowers and Chocolates**

They had been in Val Royeaux for almost two weeks now, and no one had seemed to notice them in particular. Lately, they had become a little more daring and had begun to venture out into the streets to explore the neighbourhood. In particular, they had started taking their breakfast at a baker's opposite the _Paon._ Bethany loved sweets and she simply couldn't resist the tempting display of baked goods, rolls and biscuits, sticky _tartes_ and foamy chocolate _éclairs_. Kit and Fenris claimed to be interested only in the strong, dark coffee. But once they were sitting at one of the small tables in the street, they all indulged in the delicacies offered.

At Bethany's instigation, Isabela ordered a big mug of hot chocolate. When she tasted it, she couldn't quite suppress a deep happy sigh at its creamy perfection. Kit chuckled at the rapturous expression on her face. Their waiter had noticed as well and was giving her a curious look.

"What?" Isabela defended herself. "It's chocolate."

The waiter responded with a shrug and a flood of rapid Orlesian that made Kit grin all over and Bethany sputter.

"What did he say?" Isabela tugged impatiently at Kit's sleeve. She hated to be left out of the conversation. Her command of the language was passable, but this had been simply too fast for her to grasp.

"Well, the gist of it..." Kit obviously enjoyed making her wait. "He said that it's an expression he often sees on the faces of women drinking chocolate, while men tend to look like this... on other occasions."

The waiter shot an apologetic glance at the pirate when he realized Kit had translated his remarks. " _C'est le pouvoir du chocolat_!"

Isabela threw an annoyed glance at the three snickering men at their table and took Bethany's hand. "Come on, Sunshine. Let's go and get some flowers!"

The two wandered off to a flower merchant's stall set up right next to the bakery. It was a beautiful display, the flowers lovingly arranged, with little birds' cages and other accessories strategically placed among them. However, the flowers, luscious as they were, weren't the main attraction.

Isabela sighed a long happy sigh as the merchant emerged from the building, and Bethany silently echoed the sentiment. The two of them had been ogling the gorgeous elf for the past two days, pretending to study the floral arrangements. He _was_ exceedingly good-looking, and it was obvious he knew it. His shirt had a deep plunging neckline, showing off a smooth, flat expanse of pale skin, almost down to his stomach, while his long dark hair was arranged in artful, flowing curls around his handsome face. His large, deep blue eyes with long lashes would have made him look almost feminine, if it hadn't been for the high cheekbones and the aquiline nose.

Isabela unconsciously licked her lips as he approached. _My, but he is a sight for sore eyes!_ No wonder the shop seemed to be doing well. All the women in the neighbourhood probably came by every other day just to drool over him. She glanced up at the shop sign. _Thurimen's Flowers_.

"Are you Thurimen?" The pirate smiled radiantly at the young elf, making sure that her ample assets were displayed favourably. When she glanced over at Bethany, she noticed the mage was brushing back her hair and giving the elf sultry looks. _Well, look at this! And here I thought she only had eyes for Anders._

Thurimen turned out to be the name of the shop's elderly owner; the object of their attention was called Rýndil and he was just a temporary help. Under the pretence of choosing a bouquet for Roxane, they engaged him in a lengthy conversation, the pirate flirting as outrageously as she dared.

Rýndil was polite and charming, and his smile never wavered, but Isabela grew increasingly frustrated. This was going nowhere. She was about to consider a more drastic approach when suddenly the young man's head snapped up. He stared past her shoulder with such longing that she couldn't stop herself from turning around.

"Are you coming?" Fenris' deep voice carried a hint of impatience and his face wore an habitual scowl.

"Not even breathing hard," Isabela answered automatically, but when she bit her tongue and glanced at Rýndil to gauge his reaction, she realized he hadn't even heard her. His gaze was still firmly fixed on Fenris, his expression as rapt as if he had just had a vision.

"Well? We're waiting." Fenris rolled his eyes, seemingly oblivious to the effect he had on the flower merchant. Isabela wasn't about to enlighten him.

They made their way back to the _Paon_ with a sumptuous flower arrangement. Bethany sighed deeply, throwing a last wistful look back at Rýndil's lithe form, and Isabela threw her a sympathetic glance.

"It's always the attractive ones." The pirate shrugged. "Such a pity!"

"Ah, well." Bethany tried to be philosophical. "It's not as if it matters, really. After all, it was just a game. I mean, I have Anders and you..." She took a look at Isabela's expression and blushed. "Oh! You were serious about this, weren't you?"

"Of course I was." Isabela grinned like a cat. "It would be a shame to waste such an opportunity."

"But Kit..." Bethany's voice trailed off. "I don't think I understand the two of you, Bella."

The pirate smiled warmly. "You don't have to. I don't think it would work for you and Anders."

"No, I don't think it would." Bethany sounded pensive. "Still... I like you, Bella. And I'm glad Kit has found you."

"So am I." Isabela grew serious for a moment. "Thank you, Beth."

"Why so grim?" Kit had moved up behind her and put his arms around her waist. "I have a surprise for you later that I'm sure will cheer you up."

Isabela leaned back into his embrace with a happy purr. "I love surprises."

* * *

When they retired to their room that night, Isabela turned to Kit with an expectant face. "So, this morning you mentioned a surprise..."

"Ah, yes!" Kit reached for a large parcel, wrapped in purple paper, and set it down on the table. "Go on, open it!"

Isabela wasted no time. The paper came off within seconds, and she gave a delighted squeak. "Chocolate!"

Kit grinned. "You looked so _happy_ at the baker's, and I thought to myself, if it has _that_ kind of effect on you..."

"I like the way your mind works, Kit." She took a closer look. He had got her a whole box of truffles, made from dark, rich chocolate. When she bit into one, she found they were filled with a soft creamy ganache that made her sigh with delight.

"See?" Kit pulled her onto his lap. "I knew you'd make that kind of noise..." He licked the corner of her mouth where she had smeared a little of the chocolate cream. "And you taste even more delicious than usual."

Several long and chocolaty kisses later, Isabela was panting and she didn't object when he broke open a couple of the truffles and applied the creamy filling liberally to every bit of her skin he could reach. Pushing her tunic aside, he paid special attention to her breasts, coating her nipples in a thin layer of chocolate that he then proceeded to lick off eagerly. Her initial giggle soon turned into a long moan as his tongue traced hot patterns all over her body, occasionally tickling her into new fits of laughing.

It was a wonderful, messy, silly game, and when they finally ended up naked on the bed, they were breathless both from arousal and from laughter. Their bodies were sticky from the chocolate, but Kit couldn't remember ever having felt so light-hearted and giddy while making love. Perhaps it wasn't the most spectacular orgasm of his life, but when he sunk down on top of Isabela's warm, luscious body, he was filled with a simple, clear happiness that he wouldn't have traded for anything. And her low triumphant laugh told him she was feeling much the same.

Looking down at her chocolate-smeared stomach, the pirate sighed comically. "What a mess! We'll need another bath. And look, my tunic is all messed up." She shrugged. "Well, I need a new one anyway. Actually... I have an idea. I'll take Beth shopping tomorrow. Maker knows she needs more clothes. She'll probably be enormous in a few months. And this _is_ Orlais. It would be such a shame not to buy _something_ to wear here."

Kit rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. "Of course. Get me a few new shirts too, will you? I'm sure the two of you will have a good time."

* * *

And they did. Bethany was reluctant at first, but Isabela had chosen the shops they visited wisely. The clothes on offer were stylish and comfortable, far superior in quality to anything that could be got in either Ferelden or the Free Marches, but not over the top. The staff was friendly and polite, not like in some of the more upper-class places. Soon the two women were happily trying on dresses, tunics, skirts and cloaks and going into a fit of giggles over an assortment of outrageous hats.

When they finally left the last shop of the day, Bethany was looking happy and relaxed, but rather tired. Isabela looked down the street in search of a place for them to rest and frowned.

"Look, over there!" Discreetly she tilted her head to the left, directing Bethany's attention to a tall slim man who was hastily retreating into a small side alley. "There! Isn't that our flower merchant? Rýndil? What is _he_ doing here?"

Bethany seemed unperturbed "Well, he's probably shopping too."

Isabela didn't believe in coincidences. When she mentioned the incident to Kit later in the evening, his eyes narrowed.

"Funny. I saw him near the docks yesterday when I went to check on the ship." He rose and reached for his daggers and his belt. "I think it's time to pay your pretty elf a visit."

He was just on time to see Rýndil leave the flower shop. Melting into the shadows, Kit followed him to a house on the outskirts of the alienage. It looked neat and well-cared for, but it was tiny, with little more than a room on the ground floor and one on top. Once the elf had gone indoors, Kit waited patiently for his chance, keeping a careful eye on his surroundings.

He was lucky. Shortly after night had fallen, Rýndil left the house again. He wore a hooded cloak and headed for a tavern just down the road. Kit briefly considered following him but decided against it. He would be too conspicuous in a place frequented mainly by elves.

Instead he quickly scaled the walls of a neighbouring house, then easily jumped the small space between the roofs and let himself in through one of the upper floor windows. He knew he was taking a risk by gambling on the elf living alone, but he had been correct. There was indeed just one room, and it was empty of people. A thorough search produced a number of very interesting objects, though.

On a desk in the corner, Kit found five different types of parchment and several fake seals. The wardrobe yielded an assortment of costumes and three false hairpieces. And on a small table next to the bed he found some lockpicks and a few vials of a black oily liquid that looked and smelled familiar. _Deathroot extract. Not deadly, but still useful if you need someone unconscious for a while..._

There was a locked strongbox in the lower desk drawer as well, but Kit left it alone. The lock looked complicated, and he was fairly sure he could make out some small ridges next to it that suggested poisoned barbs. It would have been interesting to find out who the man was working for, but the risk was too high. Instead he made a last careful round of the room, making sure there'd be no signs of the break-in before he left the same way he had come.

When Kit returned home and found Isabela in the small salon to relate his findings to her, his face was grim.

"A spy." The pirate couldn't quite hide her surprise. "And here I thought he was just a pretty face."

Kit nodded. "A bard, probably. There was a lute in his room as well." He sighed. "It's time to move on, I'm afraid. How soon can you get the _Wicked Grace_ ready?"

"Two days, maybe three." Isabela's eyes gleamed in the light of the fireplace. "It will be good to be at sea again."

"And here I was hoping you could stay a little longer." A familiar voice sounded from the doorway. "There's so much the three of us could... do together, my friend."

Kit's head flew up and a broad grin appeared on his face. "Zevran!"


	6. The Perfect Plan

**Chapter 5 - The Perfect Plan**

As soon as the initial enthusiastic greetings were out of the way, they all sat down to a magnificent dinner. It was obviously not the first time Zevran was visiting the _Paon_ , and he had to interrupt his meal several times to greet one or the other of the girls. Anders and Fenris had exchanged a knowing look when they recognized the assassin, sharing a vivid memory of the incident with Nuncio and what had followed.

Bethany had never met Zevran before, as she had still been in the Circle on the few occasions when the assassin had stayed at Kit's place in Kirkwall. She seemed unsure of what to make of him, torn between being charmed by his flattery and scandalized by his raunchy anecdotes. Her eyes went wide as saucers, however, when Zevran refused an invitation to watch the _Paon_ 's entertainment after dinner and instead threw Kit and Isabela a suggestive glance. 

"Ah no, my dear no-longer-champion," the assassin purred at Kit. "I think the three of us can come up with far better entertainment if we retire to your room, no?"

Kit grinned widely and got up, motioning for Isabela to join him. Bethany opened her mouth to say something, but Anders put a calming hand on her sleeve until the three had left the room.

When she turned to him, a blush spreading on her face, he smiled at her. "We never told you about Sundermount, did we?"

Fenris smirked and got up to leave. "And that's one explanation I'll gladly leave to you, mage."

* * *

Up in Kit's room, Zevran clicked his tongue appreciatively when he saw the opulent four-poster bed with its lush velvet drapes.

His clothes came off in a flash, and he soon discovered the mirror in the canopy, cooing with delight. "I think we're going to have a marvellous time, _carissimi_. There's no place like a whorehouse to make me feel at home!"

Kit and Isabela were just as eager to pick up where they had left off last time, and for a while all three happily lost themselves in each other's touch, skin sliding against skin, hot lips brushing over sensitive spots, teeth nibbling at soft flesh. They knew what they were doing by now and there was very little awkwardness, hardly any need to negotiate. When their first hunger was sated, Kit lay back with a happy sigh, reflecting on how good it was to see Zevran again, to share pleasure in such an uncomplicated manner.

"I've missed you, Zev." Isabela sighed, echoing his thoughts, her hand affectionately rubbing the assassin's naked stomach.

Zevran stretched voluptuously on the silken sheets, taking care to display his magnificent body to maximum advantage. "I'm glad to have met you here," he agreed. "And now that we're alone.... I have a proposition you might be interested in. You see, there's this lady... Let's call her Madame X. She's very well connected, moves in the highest circles. About ten years ago her husband hired me to get rid of a political opponent, which I did to his satisfaction. I also managed to satisfy his wife quite well in the process." Zevran grinned. "She is very beautiful, and I had rather fond memories, so when I came here, naturally I sought her out to renew our acquaintance, which, I may say, she was only too happy to do. It turns out her husband died three years ago, and she has since remarried."

Kit raised an eyebrow. "Now this is all very fascinating, Zev, but-"

"Just give me a moment, my friend, I'm getting to the point." Zevran threw him an indulgent smile. "Her new husband is the owner of the Joaillerie de Magot."

Kit whistled softly. "I've seen that store. It's on the Boulevard des Empereurs, isn't it?"

He remembered only too well. Isabela had spent long minutes in front of the pink marble facade, staring in through the imposing windows at the diamonds and rubies on display.

"Ooooh, I'd love to get my hands on some of their merchandise." Isabela sat up, her face a picture of excitement as she leant back against the headboard. "But there's no way we can get at it, Zev. They have armed guards on every door during the day, and they probably lock all the good stuff up securely at night."

Zevran nodded. "In a deep vault, with Dwarven doors, protected by several layers of enchantments and an assortment of traps, yes. However, not tomorrow night."

Kit's eyes widened. "Why not?"

Zevran got up and walked over to the table to pour himself a glass of sweet Nevarran wine. "The Empress has announced that she wants to come by the store the day after tomorrow, in the early morning, before they open. There'll be no time to take the jewels to the vault and back before she arrives. So, for this one night, all the treasure remains where it is."

Kit made a dismissive gesture. "But it will be heavily guarded, no doubt about it."

Zevran raised his glass to them, grinning broadly. "Ah, no, _caro mio_. The Empress will arrive in secret, and she doesn't want anyone to know of her visit, so she has strictly forbidden any unusual activity. Apparently she hates attracting attention. So there'll just be the usual two guards. They won't have time to commission any wards. So for this one night, they rely on the fact that no one will notice. And of course no one knows about it, except the shop owner and his wife."

"And you," Kit stated, rolling over on his belly, his glance travelling appreciatively over the assassin's naked body. "You'll be the first they suspect."

"But no one knows I know." Zevran laughed at their surprised faces. "I was out on the balcony, about to go in and meet her, when her husband came in unexpectedly. I overheard them talking about the visit, but as far as she is concerned I simply never turned up that night." He sighed. "Unfortunately, my dear, I'm not much of a burglar. But if I remember correctly, you are quite good with locks, aren't you?"

Isabela chewed her lip. "Oh yes, he is," she answered absent-mindedly. "We'd have to leave quickly afterwards, but if the ship's ready, that's not a problem."

The assassin's eyes gleamed with excitement. "I trust there's a good hiding-place on the _Wicked Grace_?"

Isabela sank back into the cushions with an exaggerated sigh. "She's a pirate ship, Zev. What do you think?"

Zevran slithered back to the bed, placing himself between the two of them, his head in Isabela's lap. "So, not a problem. Well, what do you say?"

Kit smiled, his hand stroking lazily over Zevran's naked thighs. "Why not? If Isabela goes on shopping like this, we'll need a new source of income."

"Hey!" Isabela's voice was indignant. "It's not as if I've been spending  _your_ money. I had quite enough left over from selling that merchantman's cargo."

Zevran shuddered under Kit's touch, raising a hand to trail it along the other man's jaw. "What happened to all the riches you amassed in Kirkwall?"

Kit shrugged. "I've salvaged quite a bit, some in jewels, some with the help of Varric's contacts. I'm not poor if that's what you're asking. But this sounds exciting."

He leaned in to kiss Zevran while his other hand reached out for Isabela's breasts. "Of course we'd have to find out a little more before we actually make our move." His breathing had become quicker and his voice sounded husky.

"Don't worry, Kit." Isabela's eyes were half-closed with desire as she leant into his caress. "I have a plan."

* * *

In the morning they put the pirate's plan into action. With a little help from Roxane and a lot of giggles and smirks, Kit and Isabela transformed themselves into an elegant Orlesian couple, complete with fancy clothes and elaborate masks that belonged to an ancient but obscure noble house based far out in the country near the Nevarran border.

Kit made a face when he saw the pointed green shoes he would have to wear. "Really, Bells, the things you make me do..."

Isabela threw him a dark look as she squeezed her ample bosom into a dark-blue gown. "At least you won't have to wear a bustle on your ass, so don't complain."

But when Zevran looked them over, he proclaimed them to look perfect. "Marvellous, _carissimi_. If I didn't know better, I'd be sorely tempted to pick your pockets or seduce you. Or both."

They set out for the store in the early afternoon. It was fairly crowded at this time of the day, when the young Orlesian nobles had slept off the last evening's debaucheries and were ready to spend their allowances on the newest fashions.

Carefully, they wove their way among the oaken display cases, pretending to admire the jewels on display while surreptitiously examining the locks. Kit immediately realized that the store's layout, with its discreet alcoves and private "secret" cabinets would work to their advantage. There was simply no way a guard would be able to keep an eye on the whole store. With any luck, they would be able to sneak in and out through one of the side doors without getting noticed.

Of course the most impressive and famous gems were secured with charms and traps, but Kit wasn't interested in those anyway. They would be far too hard to sell. No, they would stick to the smaller jewels and trinkets. A medium-sized ruby might not win them eternal fame for stealing it, but it would still fetch a decent price. Throwing a last probing glance at the locks on the doors, they left the store.

When night fell, they were as ready as they could be. They had said their goodbyes to Roxane, and Fenris, Bethany and Anders had already boarded the _Wicked Grace_. The ship would be ready to sail at first light. All three rogues were clad in soft black leather suits complete with masks and gloves, and armed with an assortment of daggers and caltrops, all of them coated with a fair dose of deathroot.

They had talked the plan over several times, making sure each of them knew their assigned part. Kit would be in charge of the locks, with Isabela at his side to help him gather the goods into several soft velvet bags. Zevran's task was to keep track of the guards, making sure they wouldn't be disturbed. The assassin's grin was icy and humourless when he checked his tools, testing the strength of the silken garrotte he kept in a hidden compartment of his belt.

They set out an hour after midnight, making their way through back alleys and avoiding the well-lit streets until they reached the Boulevard and made for a side entrance hidden behind a sumptuous display of flowers on the sidewalk. The lock opened easily under Kit's experienced hands and the three of them melted into the shadows inside the building.

Zevran raised a warning hand at a small noise from the back of the store. They ducked into an alcove behind a dark red velvet curtain and waited with bated breath until the guard had walked past them, shining a soft blue magelight into the corners. The man looked well-trained and was attentive enough, but it would have taken very special abilities to make out the shadows of three master rogues in the dim light. When he disappeared, Zevran followed him while Kit got to work on the locks of the first display case.

Everything went as smoothly as possible, and soon they had filled five heavy pouches with assorted gems and pieces of jewellery.  Isabela was watching Kit's hands while he was working, admiring his long graceful fingers, the careful, controlled way he let them travel over the polished brass surface, checking for traps and feeling his way through the intricacies of the locks. _He really has marvellous hands._ Tanned and strong, clever and flexible. She couldn't help but think of the way they would feel on her body...

"Kit," she breathed, when they had emptied the last case, raising a hand to touch his lips.

His eyes met hers and immediately registered the heat in her gaze. A smile was playing around his lips as he carefully stowed away his lockpicks and pushed aside the full bags before pulling her into a close embrace. He felt her heart beat wildly with excitement as he slid his hand under her tunic, caressing her breasts while his lips crushed hers in a passionate kiss. Isabela just barely suppressed a moan. Grinding her hips against his, she kissed him back with equal fierceness.

Neither of them noticed Zevran signalling frantically at them from a corner, not until the guard's heavy footsteps were so close that discovery was inevitable. The blue shine of the magelight in their faces drove them apart, and they swore simultaneously when they realized they had been caught.

Kit was momentarily blinded while Isabela fumbled frantically for her throwing knife. They expected the alarm to sound at any moment, but just then the guard went down to the floor with a heavy thud, taken down from behind by the assassin's skillful hands.

"Brasca!" Zevran dragged the man behind a curtain with quiet efficiency.

Grabbing the bags, they headed for the doors as quickly as they could, knowing it would only be a matter of time until the other guard would notice his fellow's absence. As soon as they had left the building behind them, they went off at a wild run, scaling fences and crossing backyards in their rush to get to the harbour. They had just reached the docks when they saw and heard a magic flare go off far behind them.

"They've raised the alarm." Kit's heady laugh of triumph earned him a dark glance from Zevran, but they were too breathless to argue.

Only minutes later they were safely aboard, heading immediately for the secret panel near the captain's cabin where they hid the pouches. Isabela rushed off to give orders to her crew to be ready to sail at sunrise. Kit and Zevran headed for the cabin.

They had barely crossed the threshold, when the assassin shoved Kit violently against the wall, gripping the front of his tunic in both hands. "What did you think you were doing in there?" he hissed, teeth bared and eyes flashing with fury.

Kit smiled insolently. "I should have thought that was fairly obvious," he drawled, obviously enjoying Zevran's agitation.

But the elf was too furious to play along with the banter. "We were on a job!" His Antivan accent was more pronounced than ever. " _Merda!_ You could have gotten us all killed! Have you no discipline at all?"

Teeming with rage, he raised a hand to hit Kit in the face, but the taller man moved just as fast, catching his wrist and throwing him off balance. Before Zevran could recover, Kit had grabbed him by the neck and pulled him into a violent kiss, biting the full lips hard enough to draw blood.

"Maker, but you're hot when you're angry!" Kit's voice had become a deep seductive growl and Zevran felt himself responding despite his anger.

" _Idiota!_ " he grumbled between heated kisses. He couldn't resist biting and scratching a little to punish Kit for his careless flippancy, but his body was already melting into the other man's embrace.

"Now, don't you two start without me again!" Isabela was standing in the doorframe, watching them with amused affection. "We're ready to sail at first light. And until then..." She closed the door behind her and joined them, leading the way to the large bed in the corner. "We might as well pass the time pleasantly."

* * *

They were several hours away from Val Royeaux before the Orlesian authorities agreed on the appropriate measures to be taken in the search for the thieves. It was estimated they had made off with almost a thousand gold pieces' worth of jewellery, not counting the smaller stones the merchant hadn't catalogued yet. When the unconscious guard woke later in the day, he gave a confused account of the night that no one could quite make sense of, babbling about a half-naked woman and a masked man. Despite several promising leads, the authorities never managed to solve the crime.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hugs and thanks to zevgirl - best beta ever!  
> Gorgeous art by askbroodyelf.


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